


Five Times Derek Was Happy, And One Time He Wasn't

by nuthinduan



Series: tumblr prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Feelings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuthinduan/pseuds/nuthinduan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short prompt fill about five moments in Derek's life with the pack that he has been happy, and one thing that made him unexpectedly sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Derek Was Happy, And One Time He Wasn't

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt given to me by a friend on tumblr. It's unedited by anyone professional (I glanced over for typos) so apologies if it seems out of character! 
> 
> I like how, even while writing about Derek being "happy" I was mostly writing about sad things. 
> 
> There are a bunch more prompts that I'm going to be filling throughout the weekend, not all of them will be Derek/Stiles, though a good majority of them are simply because that's what I was asked. Anyway, enjoy!

i.   
Maybe happiness isn't the right word to describe what Derek felt when his claws sank into Peter's throat. And yet, somehow that's exactly how he feels. There's a sort of satisfaction in the fact that the loose ends have been tied, even if that means losing the last of his family. As the power tears through his veins and bleeds into his eyes, the relief that floods through him is the closest he's felt to happy in years.

  
He'll take what he can get.   
  
ii.   
Happy is what he feels when he, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac are hanging around in a room. There's a low buzz in his chest that Derek recognizes as a contented growl. It's a noise he hasn't heard in a long time—at least not since Laura and New York. Isaac is laid down at his feet while Boyd and Erica curl into each other at the other end of the couch. It's not perfect—there's always something, someone missing—but it's better than nothing.

  
He would know.   
  
iii.   
Scott shows up in the middle of the night, shirt torn and bloodied, one eye slowly healing from what was clearly a clean tear. Derek lets him in without a word, isn't surprised when Stiles bounces in behind him. He raises an eyebrow—because seriously, how can you _bounce_ when your best friend nearly got killed—but says nothing, just follows them into the living room. Scott rambles on for a while about alphas, ex-girlfriends, and what a useless best friend he's got (Derek notes the way Stiles' face scrunches up, despite the fact that Scott is clearly joking). It's an hour of talking and healing before he finally gets to his point.

  
"I'll join your stupid pack, if it means we can beat these guys and get them out of town before someone gets seriously hurt."

  
It's the smartest thing Scott has ever said, and the joy that tears through him as Scott bares his neck is surprising. He realizes, as Scott and Stiles are stumbling out of the front door for home that, implicitly, Stiles is pack now too. They're a set, after all. Derek has gained two more family members today.

  
He growls at them both, happily, and while Scott seems to recognize what it means, Stiles' heart rate skyrockets.

  
"Dude?! What the hell?" the teen flails.

  
"No, dude," Scott says, grinning. "That's a happy growl."

  
Derek shuts the door after that, because the curiosity and confusion coming off of Stiles is overwhelming. Also, he's not sure how to handle this much joy.   
  
iv.   
He walks in one afternoon to the smell of food and happiness and—

  
"Stiles?"

  
The boy in question turns around at the stove, mouth open in an 'o' shape, spoon in hand, and an apron on. Where he even found the apron (maybe he already owned it), Derek doesn't really want to know. What he _does_ want to know is why Stiles is in his kitchen, making something that smells... familiar.

  
"I, um, well... I'm not entirely convinced you _eat,_ y'know? Outside of rabbits and field mice. So I came over to make you something. But I didn't know what to make and this book was in one of the cabinets and—shit, please don't be mad I just, I thought—"

  
Derek realizes then why it smells so familiar. It's his grandmother's stew cooking in that pot. Somehow Stiles made it smell exactly like his mother had—a mixture of spices and home, that, when consumed, flavored the chicken perfectly. Stiles shouldn't smell like _home_. Stiles shouldn't be able to make stew that smells like it. Still, Derek walks up and places a hand on his shoulder, a silent command for Stiles to _shut the hell up_ without threatening bodily harm—something he'd had to stop after Scott joined the pack.

  
"It's fine, Stiles. Good, even. I'm glad..." He chokes on the last word, is surprised by the emotion clogging his throat. Because he's not sad, not really anyway.

  
"I know," Stiles whispers, reaching out to wrap his fingers around Derek's arm. "I know."

  
Derek is glad for that.  
  
v.   
Stiles makes him laugh. Not full-bodied laughs that signify true happiness and a conquering of personal ills, but laughs nonetheless. He snorts, mostly, or smiles to himself. Eventually Stiles starts to notice, though, and he makes an effort to keep making it happen. It's surprising, but not altogether unwanted. Stiles understands him in a way the others can't. And maybe that's why his entrance into the pack was so pleasing. Or maybe it's just Stiles himself. It doesn't really matter.

  
Stiles makes Derek happy, and to Derek, that's terrifying.  
  
1.  
High school, as Derek remembers, ends. He remembers it all too late, as he watches Stiles pack his suitcase and shove his necessities into small boxes. He's going somewhere north, near Portland, maybe even in Portland. Derek wasn't really paying attention. He's been sulking for days, avoiding talking or even looking in Stiles' direction. He knows it's not the right way of dealing with things, but over the last few years, he's forgotten how to live without those small moments of happiness. He's not sure what to _do_ with the fact that the thought of losing Stiles, even temporarily, hurts so much. Stiles is... not unattractive, but he's loud, obnoxious, maybe too excitable. He's nosy, prying, and too much to handle at the best of times. This should be good, this should give him breathing space. This should make him happy.

  
He hasn't been this miserable since before he'd torn Peter's throat to shreds.

 


End file.
